


kevin bacon

by brandywine421



Series: quarantine [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Comic Book Science, F/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: "This is bullshit, Randall!  BULLSHIT!" Dinah yelled after the retreating agents.  Oh, just wait 'til she got out of here, there were so many people getting fired.She didn't realize until after they'd disappeared from view that she wasn't alone in the quarantine bunker.  She slowly turned to check who she was trapped with her in this new hellscape.  Her shrink already had way too much fodder for a woman her age and her PTSD didn't need more creativity."Don't stop on my account, I agree that this is bullshit," the pale man said, red glasses flashing danger that wasn't telegraphed by his relaxed posture, well, as relaxed as one could be in hospital scrubs.Dinah Madani & Matt Murdock ♥
Relationships: Dinah Madani/Matt Murdock
Series: quarantine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675816
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	kevin bacon

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a few days ago, 'innuendo' spiraled out of it so I may have stolen from myself but *shrugs* - managed to get enough of this done to satisfy the rare!pair muse that is six feet away from me right now washing their hands.
> 
> *Lyric tag belongs to Rainbow Kitten Surprise.

_She cocks her pistols 'fore she pops her collar_  
_Oh she's all but lethal pulling off that laser gun_  
_She's rips the halos off of angels for the fun of it_  
_If all she ever does is smile at you, run_

"This is bullshit, Randall! BULLSHIT!" Dinah yelled after the retreating agents. Oh, just wait 'til she got out of here, there were so many people getting fired.

She didn't realize until after they'd disappeared from view that she wasn't alone in the quarantine bunker. She slowly turned to check who she was trapped with her in this new hellscape. Her shrink already had way too much fodder for a woman her age and her PTSD didn't need more creativity.

"Don't stop on my account, I agree that this is bullshit," the pale man said, red glasses flashing danger that wasn't telegraphed by his relaxed posture, well, as relaxed as one could be in hospital scrubs.

She didn't recognize him and she thought she'd know if there was a blind federal agent - and one that looked like that - in her area. Civilian casualty? Inter-divisional plant?

He leaned forward when she didn't respond right away and wow, when did she become so impolite. "Sorry - I'm Dinah Madani, federal agent."

"Matt Murdock, blind guy," he replied, offering his hand.

Had to be more to him.

"So what is this 'unknown chemical agent' we've allegedly been exposed to?" Murdock asked, his eyes listlessly scanning the wall as he cleaned his glasses with his scrub top. How did he know they were dirty?

He definitely wasn't faking the blindness, as if anyone would.

She shook off her question. "Non-lethal but highly contagious. Some patients describe it as a sugar high, others an aphrodisiac, most say it's like a fever dream without the fever."

"It doesn't sound like you're fucking with me, but please be fucking with me," he replied after a moment. "Can I call flu-like symptoms and sneezing instead?"

"How'd you get exposed, anyway? It was a controlled scene," Dinah reminded him.

"Long story."

"We got time."

His mouth turned up in a wicked line and she had a feeling her days might not have to be filled with boredom and rage after all.

* * *

Small talk got them through the first few hours but it was only after Murdock took advantage of their small suite's bathroom to make his calls and shower off the rising fever that she settled into the space.

She was careful not to move the furniture since she was cohabiting with a blind man but she checked through her newly sanitized personal items, noting her personal phone but not her work phone had made it into her prison. Bastards.

"I was strongly advised by one partner not to talk to you at all and maintain the Fifth until we're cleared. My other partner couldn't stop laughing long enough to give me any advice, I believe she's met you before," Murdock says, his hair damp from his shower and phone session.

"Partners?"

"They confiscated all my business cards, but you don't seem the type to require a lot of legal representation," he sniffed.

Lawyer. Murdock. Damn, maybe she did have a fever. "Fisk."

"No comment," he said.

"And Castle - no fucking way. The blonde's your partner? Thought she was a reporter."

"She's our investigator but she's earned her name on the sign. You know Castle? Or should I say Castiglione? Nice work on that clean slate," he added as he dropped into the seat. 

"He got you into this mess?" She didn't think Castle would drag some blind guy into his terrorism leads.

"I owed him a favor, well, Karen did but here we are. My stance on Castle - under whatever name he goes by - is that he can go fuck himself," he said primly.

"Sustained, Counselor," she laughed. 

* * *

  
She failed at identifying songs from his shuffled playlists, never a fan of pop music. He failed at picking out poetry quotes, never a student of feminist free verse.

They had to declare a stalemate at trivia, a time-out over military history and a cease fire over religion - some lines couldn't be crossed.

Meditation - well - that worked best of all. Meditation was a game-changer.

* * *

"Oh, you're just my type," he said, licking a line up her wrist and sucking her thumb into his mouth. "Dangerous. You shoot more than you punch, but can handle a knife in a pinch," he continues, tasting her fingers one at a time like lollipops as their bodies migrated closer together to share heat.

"Interesting way to read palms," she said. "And I'm not dangerous."

"Liar, damn, you really are my type - you'd rip my heart to shreds," he said, leaning his head on her shoulder. "Gotta be careful. Plead the fifth."

"No cameras in here and I can keep a secret."

"Can't ask anyone else to carry my secrets."

"Is talking necessary?" she asked, taking the pause to pull his shirt over his head, accidentally taking the glasses, too.

She paid silent respect to all his secrets written across his torso. Yeah, lawyer - sure - by day, maybe. "Fuck," he said.

"We can do that, forget about the talking," she said, drinking him in with her eyes before closing them and letting her fingers and mouth do the rest of the work.

* * *

They didn't talk much, but they learned a lot about each other between and during their mandatory cohabitation. 

They had more in common, silently, than they ever would with spoken words.

That could be the fever talking, though, everything was hot - too hot - when he didn't have his hands on her, it was like the world was on fire. 

He told her about Elektra when she was riding him on the loveseat and she told him about Bill when he had her bent over the kitchen counter. 

She learned way too much about his time in Catholic school when she pegged him in the shower, but she probably said too much about her time in the Academy when he ate her out on the washing machine.

He knew she drank too much. She knew he threw himself into situations that would get him killed. They knew their friends would always matter more than their own lives. She didn't 'know' he was Daredevil yet, but he didn't 'know' that she wasn't oblivious yet.

They both owed Frank Castle their lives - and multiple punches in the face - but they didn't talk about him. He would always be a killer - a 'boner-killer' to quote Matt. (They both knew that wasn't quite true but 'snitches get stitches' to quote herself.)

He had rough hands and gentle touches and she had sharp edges and soft insides and for two weeks, with regular hydration and hazmat assessment breaks, they got a brand new education.

* * *

The medics never caught them indisposed, Matt's hearing was too good for that (she knew all the gossip in the building now - Randall was going to suffer.)

The fever wore off on the second day and the docs didn't make them keep track of the more problematic symptoms since they never reported them.

Matt managed not to touch her hair and she didn't have her fingers curled into the dip of his hip and they were impeccably behaved when the doctors finally came with their release papers.

Karen's face lit up in relief when Matt stepped into the waiting room. Dinah almost forgave the woman for the bitch-face but, she'd be lying if she didn't preen slightly when Matt leaned over her shoulder, tapping those mad fingers on her waist.

"Tapas on Friday?" he murmured and she smiled, drowning out Karen's shocked gasp. He knew exactly what he was doing, the bastard.

"Maybe. We can discuss over drinks tomorrow," she decided.

"You should be ashamed," Karen hissed, but it wasn't directed at her. She took Matt forcibly by the elbow and steered him toward the exit. "I'm so sorry, Madani, I'll make sure you get a full, itemized apology on your desk within the day."

"From Castiglione, not me, I have no regrets," Matt called over his shoulder.

She turned to Randall, accepting her badge, holster and gun. "Thanks. You're fired."

"But - I don't even work for you!"


End file.
